The Second Hand of Fate
by Seraphim Starlight
Summary: It was the time in between, the seconds they spent, that would change everything. Endgame Spoilers. Luke x Tear centric. Sequel to And the Clock Struck Twelve.
1. Journey of Heart and Soul

**The Second Hand of Fate**

**By: seraphimstarlight**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

**Author's Note: **Oh man, so it took me a while to get this fic out (mostly because I got sidetracked by Nano last month), but, at last, here it is. Just as in **And the Clock Struck Twelve**, there are endgame spoilers. There are also spoilers for the end of **Twelve**, but you don't really have to have read it to understand what's going on.

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Tear took a moment to stretch as she stepped off of the small ship that she had spent the last few hours on while she traveled from Yulia City to Port Kaitzur. Ever since the cessation of the Planet Storm, travel had become so much more difficult than it had been before. The Albiore was a luxury nowadays; most people traveled by carriage or by boat when the situation demanded, and things were no different even for the group of heroes who had once saved the world.

Needless to say, she did not look forward to travel nowadays. After becoming accustomed to travel on the Albiore during her previous journey, she found travel by boat utterly vexing and had resolved to travel only when necessary. Still, when she had received Luke's letter informing her that he had decided to travel to Kaitzur and wanted her to meet him there she had put aside her dislike of travel and boarded a small boat bound for Port Kaitzur.

After several hours aboard the tiny ship, she finally arrived and, with a relieved sigh, stepped onto the dock and breathed in the refreshing sea air. While she waited to claim her luggage—two small traveling bags containing food and necessary medical supplies for her trip to Kaitzur proper, she decided to take a look around the port.

The place was pretty much just as she remembered it. The area was still populated by the familiar green and gold huts that had, in days past, housed members of the Kimlascan military. Now, however, with the marriage of the Kimlascan princess to a Malkuth Duke, a new sense of peace seemed to pervade both lands, and war was probably the farthest thing from the peoples' minds.

As such, the Kimlascan military, at the request of the soon-to-be Queen, had withdrawn the bulk of their forces from the port, leaving behind only a small contingent of soldiers to protect the port from the occasional monster attacks. Now, the majority of the buildings in the port city had been transformed from military bunkers to small shops and inns that catered to a weary traveler's every want and need.

She wandered into a nearby shop, drawn in by the delicate scent of baking pastries. Despite the difficult boat trip, she was feeling hungry, and her sweet tooth was flaring up again. She moved over to the counter when the clerk called her forward.

"What would you like, dear?" the clerk, a kindly middle-aged woman asked.

Tear scanned the display. "I don't know," she said at last, "they all look so…cute."

The clerk smiled. "Well, maybe I can help you decide. What flavor do you like?"

She considered the clerk's question for a long moment. She thought of her trip and of how much she…disliked traveling by boat _and_ of the headache that she would probably get when she, at last discovered the reason that Luke had called her all the way out here.

"Chocolate," Tear said quickly. This day would definitely demand chocolate.

"All right," the clerk replied, ducking down behind the counter so that she could pick out a suitable pastry. After a moment, the clerk stood and held out a small pastry wrapped in a paper liner. "How does an éclair sound?"

Tear took a quick look at the pastry and nodded. "That looks good, thank you. Could I get one of those to go?" She hesitated for a moment. "And could I get one for my friend too?"

The clerk nodded politely and grabbed another one from the display case and placed both in a small white box. "That'll be 400 Gald," she said.

Tear took a moment to count out the coins before handing them to the clerk. The woman smiled and passed her the box. "Have a nice day, ma'am," she said with a bow. "May Lorelei watch over you."

The sudden mention of the sentience's name caught her off guard—after all, she hadn't really heard it mentioned in a long time—other than in the context of The Order of Lorelei, that is. She mumbled an appropriate response and, box in hand, rushed from the store. As she stepped back outside, the cool sea breeze washed over her, calming her measurably.

Glancing around, her gaze lit on the ship again, and she decided to check if her bags had been unloaded yet. When she arrived at the dock, she found a uniformed crew member waiting amidst a large pile of luggage. She showed the clerk her two claim tickets, and he quickly produced her belongings. She took her bags from him and thanked him with a curt nod.

Bags and box in hand, she made her way over to a nearby bench and took a moment to pack her purchase away, taking care to make sure that it was not crushed.

It wasn't that she was shocked to hear mention of Lorelei; the general public, for the most part, still seemed to believe in the sentience of the Seventh Fonon even though the Planet Storm had been halted for quite some time. It was just that the name brought back so many memories of her previous journey—so many memories of that time when her brother had still been alive—so many memories of all the times she had tried—and failed—to save him.

She had been reaching to close the tie on her bag, but her hand now hung in mid-air. For years since his death, she had fought back memories of her brother. In the three years immediately following the events on Eldrant she had been so focused on Luke's disappearance that there hadn't been much time to think about anything else. That's not to say that she had forgotten Van—she could never forget him, but worrying about Luke had, mercifully, pushed everything else from her mind.

Someone passed by her, jostling her and breaking her free from her thoughts. She looked up, offering a quick apology to the stranger before turning her attention back to her bag. Truthfully, there had been no reason for her to apologize—after all, she had been the one who was sitting down. But still, she felt some sort of faint gratitude to the person who had broken her train of thought.

With a deft twist, she tied her bag shut. As she did so, the sunlight glinted off the golden ring on her left hand. She stopped and stared at the ring, momentarily distracted. Luke. He was probably waiting for her at Kaitzur. Now was not the time to get distracted by old memories. She would think on them later when there was time for such things. Maybe she could talk to Luke about it.

She stood and picked up her two bags and started on her way out of the port city. As she approached the gate, she noticed a small crowd gathered there—probably travelers banding together to travel to Kaitzur. She thought momentarily about joining them, but decided against it. Even without most of her fonic artes, she still had enough fighting experience to hold her own in a fight. Quickly, she double-checked her throwing knives in their holster her staff which was secured by a belt to her back. Both were satisfactory, so she proceeded to the gate.

As she passed through the gate, she noticed a tall red-head leaning against one of the columns. Tear shouldered past the crowd, trying to get a better look. She was almost certain it was him.

"Luke!"

The red-head turned at the sound of his name. Tear waved, struggling to make her way through the crowd without jostling anyone too badly. His eyes scanned the crowd for a few long moments. At first, it seemed as though he did not see her, but then his eyes met hers and a wide grin spread across his face.

She thought she heard him call her name, but she couldn't be certain. She was too busy drinking in the sight of him. It felt like so long since she had last seen him that, for a moment, she found herself wondering if he had grown taller, for he seemed to stand far above and beyond the crowd. His hair was still long, but he had pulled it back and tied it loosely at his neck. His outfit had changed yet again. Gone was the long white cloak that he had been so fond of since his return from Eldrant. Now he wore a waist length red coat that buttoned up the front and black gloves, pants and boots. Though this too had changed about him, his eyes were still the same as she remembered—the same vibrant green that was unique to most members of the Kimlascan Royal family.

Before she came to her senses, he had cut through to where she was standing and had wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her to him and had buried his face in the soft slope of her neck and shoulder. All the muscles in her body seemed to relax and once, and her bags fell, unnoticed, from her hands. Curious onlookers backed away, giving them space, if not privacy. She paid them little heed, however, and he, apparently, paid them no heed whatsoever.

"I missed you, Tear," he said quietly, his words muffled by her shoulder. "It feels like forever since I last saw you."

She smiled to herself and brought her arms up around him, returning his embrace. "Idiot," she murmured, "it's only been a few weeks since you were last in Yulia City."

He was right, however; it did indeed feel like an eternity since they had last seen each other. Though they had managed to spend more time together since their engagement, they still occasionally found themselves going their separate ways because of business. A few weeks ago, he had received a summons from—of all people—Jade who had requested his presence in Grand Chokmah. What for, Luke had not said, but from the immediacy with which he had departed Yulia City, she could only presume that it was important. He had been gone since then, and she had not heard anything from him until his letter had arrived. Maybe now that they had met up, he would fill her in on the details of his meeting with Jade. If he didn't, however, she wouldn't push the matter. Everyone had their secrets sometimes.

He pulled back, blushing when he realized that everyone in the area was watching them. "But, still, it's really good to see you. I'm so glad you came after all."

She gave him a look. "Why wouldn't I come to see you when you asked?"

He seemed to think for a long moment before giving a nervous laugh. She could have sworn she felt a migraine rear its ugly head for a moment at that laugh. Something was up—what it was, only time would tell.

"I just thought," he said quickly, as though trying to salvage the situation, "that you wouldn't want to travel—I know how you feel about it."

"True," she said with a smile, "I don't like traveling. But, surprisingly, this trip wasn't that bad."

"That's great," he said. "I'm glad it went well."

"But, I thought I was supposed to meet you at Kaitzur," she said, confused.

His face colored several shades, and he glanced away, coughing nervously. "Ah…I thought it would be better if I didn't keep you waiting, so I figure I'd come and meet you. Besides, we can get to where we're going from here just as easily as from Kaitzur." He hesitated for a moment. "That, and I…reallywantedtoseeyou."

He said the last part so quickly that it took her a moment to comprehend what he had said. When she did, however, she found herself blushing furiously. For a long moment, she couldn't think of what to say, so she ended up silently placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her.

"You must be hungry," she said, "let's go find a place to eat. We can catch up over lunch."

He nodded. "I'm starved!" he agreed. "How did you know? Oh! And I can explain why I wanted you to come here."

She nodded and smiled. "All right. Let's find a restaurant. There are plenty around here."

He brightened up suddenly. "I know this great seafood place around here!" he suggested.

She couldn't help laughing at his enthusiasm. "Let's go then," she said with a nod.

He extended his hand to her, and she took it, letting him lead her through the crowd in the direction of the port.

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**Author's Note:**

Ah! Here it is! The first part of **The Second Hand of Fate**! I had originally planned this fic to be a oneshot, but, as I started writing, I decided I should make this a multi-chapter fic. It's probably going to be about 3-5 chapters. I'll try to make the chapters longer than this so that I'll finish in time.

Also, it's been a while since I played the game and since I wrote the last fic, so, if I've gotten any major details wrong, please, feel free to let me know. Also, if anyone knows Luke's favorite food, please let me know. I couldn't remember for the life of me, but I remember vaguely that they mentioned it somewhere in the game.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to writing more of this fic. I intend to finish this story by the beginning of January. I'll do my best to stick to that. Until next time!


	2. The Future in the Far Off Sky

**The Second Hand of Fate**

**By: seraphimstarlight**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

**Author's Note**: Watch out for the sudden scene shift. And thank you to everyone who sent me info on Luke's favorite food. It was a big help!

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She took a deep breath of the fresh air, inhaling until she felt her lungs would burst. There simply was no getting enough fresh air. No matter how many times she breathed, it still managed to feel wonderfully calming.

But despite the fact that the air was yet clear here, in this place above the whole world, she could still detect in the undercurrents of the wind that terrible, malicious taint. She glanced away towards the ground first, not wanting to look out over the ocean, knowing full well what she would see there. Instead, after a moment's hesitation, she looked up towards the sky, feeling, somehow, that it was better to face the truth that way.

It was by no means a cloudy day. In fact, it was the height of summer, and, by all rights the sun should have blazed brightly in the sky. The day itself, however was dark as though a veil had been cast over the sky.

Tears sprung to her eyes against her will, but she blinked them away defiantly. This was no time to look away. She had done that once too often and look where it had gotten them. Now even this last, precious place was contaminated.

A voice rang out behind her, cutting into her thoughts.

"Even with The Shroud in place, it's not a good idea to stare at the sun, Yulia."

She turned, more to humor her companion than to confirm his identity. "Daath." It came out as more of a statement than a question. "It's here now. The Miasma, I mean."

He frowned, and she could tell that he had not noticed. "I'd thought it was everywhere."

"No," she said with a slight shake of her head, "not here. Until recently, this area had remained uncontaminated."

"But wasn't there a quake in this area recently? Near, what was that place called again?"

She looked away, her gaze becoming distant. "Rugnica. It will be called Rugnica."

"Rugnica? What the hell's that?"

The question jarred her from her thoughts, and she looked up at Daath apologetically. "Sorry. I meant Isetan." She hesitated for a moment as though to confirm what she had just said. "Yes, last week there was a quake in the area of Isetan."

She looked up to find Daath watching her intently. "You saw something again, didn't you?"

"Yes," she said, knowing that she could not fool him by saying otherwise.

He shifted, seemingly uncomfortable, and she could only guess that he wanted to ask what it was she had seen. But they both knew that she made it a point not to talk about her visions. Letting people know that she had seen their future—no, she corrected herself, their _potential_ future—could only lead to misfortune. Still, his expression of wide-eyed curiosity was almost irresistable, and, for a moment, she felt like telling him that, for a knight of the Mydeiran Church, he was nowhere near as refined as he needed to be. In fact, with his head of long crimson hair, he looked almost like a mercenary. Odd, since a similar hair color would eventually become the symbol of Lorelei's scion.

Of course, she would never tell Daath either of those things, for they were far outside the scope of what he needed to know right now. Instead, she settled for telling him, "There was a town over there. A port."

She pointed off in the general direction of the sea. Daath moved to stand beside her. "Well, that makes sense, especially since the lowlands of this area are all but flooded with Miasma right now."

She rolled her eyes, grateful for the light teasing tone in his voice. It was so difficult to live under the constant strain of seeing your world devoured daily. "I didn't mean now, idiot. I meant in the future."

He sighed dramatically. "Yeah, I know you did. But, Yulia, you and I both know that Miasma doesn't retreat from an area. How can people build a port there if it's filled with that stuff?"

"Miasma can't retreat," she said, not having heard the second part of his statement, "it's not a sentient thing."

"Sometimes it sure feels like it," he said, suddenly serious again.

She agreed, but did not say so. They were both right in a sense. While the Miasma itself lacked a conciousness, from the way it slowly, tormentingly devoured their precious world, one couldn't help thinking that it was a living scourge sent by the sentiences to punish mankind for its arrogance.

"It's all my fault, isn't it?"

She had not meant the words to sound as self-pitying as they hand. The tone was a last minute addition that had slipped past her lips before her mind had a chance to amend it.

Daath moved to stand beside her but did not look at her. She was most grateful for that; she did not want him to see the ambivalance in her expression.

"It was our fault, Yulia. All of ours. We pushed this world and, finally, it pushed back. It was bound to happen sometime. That it happened now is no more your fault than it is mine."

"But, I'm the one who started all this!" She hesitated, fighting to keep her voice level. "I'm the one who first spoke with Lorelei. I'm the one who suggested that we use the new fonon to create a new source of power. I'm the one who brought the memory of the Seventh Fonon back to this world." Her arm swept out in a wide arc over the tainted lands below. "Don't you see! I'm the one who's responsible for all this death!"

She spun away, ashamed of the tears that were gathering in her eyes.

"And what of the rest of us, Yulia?" Daath reminded her quietly after a moment's silence. "What of the King who funded your plan? What of the Church, which supported you? What of all the engineers who worked with you? Are you saying that they're not to blame?"

"They never would have come up with this idea if I hadn't forseen it!"

"Stop being so conceited!"

She took a step backwards in surprise. Never, in all the time she had known him had Daath ever raised his voice to her.

"D-daath…"

"Stop thinking that humanity would be utterly incompetent without you! Sure, life would have been a lot harder without the power brought to us by the Planet Storm, but not having power doesn't make people stupid, you know. There's no saying that somewhere, someone wouldn't have thought of it eventually." His expression softened. "Like I said before, it was bound to happen eventually. You just brought it to us a little bit earlier. And, if you're so insistent on blaming yourself for this situation, then fine. I'm not saying you're not to blame anyway. All I'm saying is that, with all the people involved in this, there are plenty of ways to divide up the blame."

When she was certain he was finished speaking, she opened her mouth to say something but found, much to her surprise, that no words would come out. He, a knight of the Mydeiran Church was lecturing _her_—a person to whom his superiors bowed. If the situation weren't so ironic, it would have been hilarious.

She watched him, waiting for him to realize what he had just done and apologize, as most others would have done. Instead, he was merely staring off towards the horizon, seemingly completely at ease, and she couldn't help thinking that he was either very brave or completely oblivious.

A smile curled the corners of her lips, and she turned away to hide it, not wanting him to think that it was always all right to question her authority. This time, though, she was able to admit that he had a valid point and would not begrudge him that.

"Don't worry," he said suddenly, jarring her out of her thoughts, "we'll find some way to fix this."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, resuming her serious demeanor.

He turned to her and smiled. "Because you predicted it," he said simply. "That's how." He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "There's a way around this, and we'll do everything in our power to find it. So don't go counting us out just yet."

His optimism was contagious, and she found herself grinning along with him. "I'll do my best too," she said after a brief silence, "because, someday, I want to see that beautiful sky again."

His hand slipped from her shoulder but he did not leave her side. "Someday you will," he said.

"Spoken like a true prophet," she quipped.

He made a face. "That's your job, not mine."

"And just what is your job, hmm?"

She waited for a response. When he remained silent, she noticed that he was no longer looking at her, but, instead was looking at the veiled sky.

"And you were telling me about not looking at the sun," she muttered sourly.

"I'm not looking at the sun," he retorted hotly, "I was just thinking. I wonder how high this thing goes."

She frowned. "The sky you mean?"

"Of course I don't mean the sky," he scoffed. "I was talking about the Shroud."

Yulia shrugged. "It doesn't matter," she said simply. "The air itself changed to become the miasma. The scientists think that there was some fundamental Fonic reaction that took place and changed our air to poison. Going higher probably wouldn't help."

"Probably, not definitely," he reminded her. "Have the scientists actually looked at the possibility that the Miasma is not a change in the nature of the air but rather something that's been—added to it, for lack of a better word?"

"They thought of that, but there was no definite proof. They couldn't pinpoint a source for the Miasma. Until they find a source, the Fonic Change Theory is our best option."

"But not our only one."

She frowned. "What are you suggesting?"

He grinned. "I'm—not quite sure. It's just that, looking at this, it kinda reminded me of fog and the way it sits over the water. I was just wondering if that's the same thing that was happening with the Miasma. I mean, I have no proof of it. It's just…the similarities struck me, that's all."

She sighed. "And even if this was the case, what do you propose we do? Leave all our land behind and go and live in the sky?"

"I don't know," he said defensively. "I was just…thinking, that's all."

"Well, keep on thinking."

He sighed. "Did you really have to say it like—hey, wait! What?"

She smiled. "I said, 'keep thinking'. I don't know if your idea is right or not, but, if we're ever going to present it to the King and the High Priest we need to have a plan to go along with our theory as well as proof as to the source of the Miasma. So start thinking about all those things."

He looked back at her, eyes wide. "You really think my idea is good?"

"I didn't quite say that," she said, thinking it best not to get his hopes up too much, "I just think we'd be negligent if we did not investigate all possibilities." She shrugged. "And who knows? You might just turn out to be right."

"Coming from a prophet," he quipped, "I'll take that as a good sign."

"Coming from a prophet," she said, "I say we won't get anything done if we don't get to work."

He grinned and nodded. "Right."

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**Author's Note:**

Oh man. I took one heck of a hiatus here and, believe me, it was totally unplanned. So much for finishing this fic by the end of January, lol.

For those of you who might be curious as to what happened, I decided to change the nature of this fic a little bit (just a smidge) halfway through the second part. I'd wanted it to be exclusively Luke and Tear in this story, but I decided that the events of The Thirteenth Hour needed a bit more foreshadowing than this story would have given them. Hence, this chapter.

Generally, the structure of the fic now should be chapters alternating between Luke/Tear and Yulia/Daath. It was certainly…interesting trying to flesh out Yulia and Daath considering there's surprisingly little mentioned about them and almost nothing written on their appearance or personalities. So…generally, I'm making it up as I'm going along. They're almost like OC's except for the fact that they were mentioned in the game. Still, I'll do my best to keep them in some sort of character. I kind of imagine them to be a little like Luke and Tear, so I'll probably model their personalities along those lines.

At any rate, sorry about all my babbling…and that insanely long hiatus. I'll do my best to get the next chapter out as soon as possible. I'm not certain when that'll be, but it'll be sooner than this one came out. I can almost guarantee that. Until then!—Sera-star


	3. A Home Beyond Home

**The Second Hand of Fate**

**By: seraphimstarlight**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

**Author's Note**: Oh man, so it took me a while to get this fic out (mostly because I got sidetracked by Nano last month), but, at last, here it is. Just as in And the Clock Struck Twelve, there are endgame spoilers. There are also spoilers for the end of Twelve, but you don't really have to have read it to understand what's going on.

--

The restaurant that Luke had mentioned was a tiny, cozy place that overlooked the sea. It seated only about fifty people at the most, though she supposed they could set up tables dockside as well, if they needed more space. The place, though small, was efficient, and Tear found the staff friendly.

Luke and Tear were quickly seated, at a water-side seat no less. A few minutes later, a waitress appeared to take their orders, chatting amiably with the couple while she waited for them to choose from the menu. In the end, Tear chose a small bowl of a light soup, as her stomach was still unsettled from the earlier boat ride, and Luke ordered a plate of chicken.

"You know," Luke said when the waitress had walked away, "I always wondered why seafood places serve chicken. Not that I'm complaining of course, but, it _is_ weird, don't you think?"

Tear stared for a moment. "Well…I suppose so. I just…never really though about it."

He glanced away. "Oh, well…I see. I suppose, it is a strange thing to think about."

A silence stretched between them, and Tear took a long moment to watch him. He fidgeted nervously in his seat and seemed distressed about something. She wanted to ask him what was upsetting him so, but thought better of it…for the moment anyway. She would give him a chance to talk about it on his own accord over lunch, and then, if he didn't, she would drag the truth out of him later.

She also bit back the urge to ask about his reason for asking her here, certain that doing so now would make it sound as though she were still put out about travelling. Instead, she settled for safer small-talk.

"So, do you come here often?"

He looked up. "To the restaurant or to Kaitzur?"

"The restaurant," she said after a moment's thought.

"Once or twice," he said, "when I first arrived in Port Kaitzur. I was feeling hungry after spending all that time cooped up on the ship, so I went for the place closest to the port."

He grinned sheepishly, and she spent a moment wondering how he had the stomach for a meal so soon after travelling when even the thought of her soup was making her queasy now. Still, she supposed it depended on one's constitution, and Luke had quite the constitution to begin with.

"Oh, that reminds me," she said, reaching into one of her bags and procuring the box she had bought from the bakery earlier, "I know you don't really like sweet things, but I happened to wander into a bakery earlier, and…well," she held the box out to him, "here."

He stared for a long moment, as though uncertain, before reaching out to her. He did not take the box from her hands as she had expected, and it nearly fell when she let go of it. He managed to catch it in one hand however, and placed it on the table between them before reaching up and taking hold of both her hands in his.

"You didn't have to…bring anything," he said quietly. "Seing you is more than enough—more than I could have asked for."

For a moment, she was stunned speechless, and it was all the response she could manage to curl her fingers around his. Somehow, no matter how many times he said it or how he said it, his saying that he loved her still took her breath away.

"You're wearing the ring," he said, breaking her train of thought.

She blinked a few times. "Huh…?"

He ran his finger over the golden band on her finger. "I'm happy you like it."

She looked up at him, a bit startled. Had he truly thought she wouldn't?

Her expression must have changed because he pulled back a little. "It's not that I….What I mean is…"

"What's bothering you, Luke?"

It wasn't that she meant to be so blunt, but she just couldn't hold the question back any longer. First he suddenly left for Kaitzur, then asked her to travel to Kaitzur and then seemed reluctant to tell her the reason why. She felt the promised migraine beginning to pulse behind her eyes but pushed it away. Something had happened, and she had to know.

For a moment, though, her heart tightened in a brief spasm of fear, and she was reminded of that day an eternity ago when she had to leave him behind on Eldrant. Icy fear crept through her veins, making her hand tremble in his. What if something had happened again? What if…she was once again faced with the terrifying prospect of losing him—now when she lacked the power to help him?

She curled her fingers around his hand, needing to feel a tangible link to him and asked him again, "What happened?"

He stared for a moment as though dumbfounded, then was beside her in a second, her hand still cradled in his.

"No, no, no, you've go it all wrong! It's nothing serious, I promise! S-so, don't worry. I just…wanted your help with something. That's all."

It was her turn to stare. "My…opinion? On what?"

He seemed to relax a little and returned to his seat. "Oh…well, you see…I guess I should start with why Jade called me here in the first place."

"I guess that would be a good place to start," she said. Admittedly, she was curious about why the Colonel had called him here, though not more so than why Luke had called _her_ here.

Luke sighed and sank back in his chair. "Well, he wanted to know what I wanted to do with Choral Castle."

"Choral Castle? Isn't that Malkuth territory now?"

"Yeah, but it was once a vacation home for my family. They wanted to know if I wanted it back, basically."

"So, what did you say?"

He laughed sheepishly. "Well, I told them it rightly belong to my fa—I mean, the Duke. And they said, and I quote, 'he had no interest whatsoever in reclaiming it'."

"So they asked you next."

"Yeah, but…I wanted to ask you first."

"Me? Why?" To be honest, she couldn't see what she had to do with any of this. Not that she wasn't flattered that he had asked her for her opinion.

He glanced away sheepishly. "Well, umm, Baticul is kinda formal and, well…stuffy. I was thinking that maybe you'd be more comfortable living somewhere other than there. Basically…I want to know ifyou'd liketomovetherewith me."

She couldn't help the smile that settled comfortably across her lips. His habit of jumbling all his words together when he was flustered was just too adorable. He must have misread her reaction, however, and a worried look crossed his face.

"Is that a 'no'?"

She looked up, startled. "No, of course not! I would…be happy to move there with you."

He smiled, a wide, toothy expression that was both innocent and childlike, and she felt her heart somersault in her ribcage. She drew in a deep, steadying breath to calm herself.

"To tell the truth," he said, "I really wanted to go back to Choral Castle, but that place is too painful for me to deal with on my own." His hand tensed momentarily around hers. "But, if you go with me…I think I can handle it."

"Is this about…that machine?"

She hadn't wanted to ask because she knew the pain bringing up that particular memory would cause him but felt she had to. From what she could tell, they had finally arrived at the source of his problem.

After a long moment, he finally answered. "Yeah. Jade wanted to remove it from the castle. I told him to go ahead and take it."

"So, you haven't been there yet?"

"Not since the last time."

He tried to smile, probably to reassure her, but the pain evident in his expression only unsettled her more.

"Is there some other reason you need to go back?" she asked.

"Well, the monsters will need to be exterminated and the castle will need to be cleaned if we're going to move in there at some point." His smiled widened but still did not reach his eyes. "Besides, there's something I need to face there, and I know I'll need your help to do it."

"And you'll have my help. You don't even have to ask for that."

At this, he grinned genuinely. "I know, but…I thought I'd ask anyway."

"Idiot," she murmured, tracing circles on his palm.

"It's been a long time since you called me that."

To tell the truth, she hadn't even realized, but when she thought about it, she realized he was right. It wasn't that they hadn't seen each other recently. It was that now when she spent time with him she found herself becoming happier and happier each time she saw him that at times she wondered if she had gone delirious. It felt as though she had been waiting for some time for that relentlessly rational part of her to kick in and tell her that there was some fault or flaw with this picture—that, like everything else, this wouldn't last. A trill of fear ran through her at the thought.

"Tear…are you all right?"

Luke was watching her, wide-eyed with concern, and she mentally chided herself for worrying him. Here he was about to confront a critical moment in his past, and she was worried over a baseless fear.

After everything they had gone through together, she knew that both of them would do anything in their combined power to protect each other—to save each other. There was no question about that. So then, why was she so irrationally frightened right now—as though returning to the place where just about everything began would bring it somehow full-circle to its end?

But still…she couldn't worry about that now. The fear was baseless, and, besides, Luke needed her support now.

She forced herself to smile. "Nothing. Just wondering when you were planning on heading up to Choral Castle."

For a moment, it seemed as though he had forgotten what they were talking about. "Choral Castle…?" He remembered after a few seconds' thought. "Oh, that. Right. Umm, I guess we could head up now if you're ready."

"I'm all packed, if that's what you mean."

"You've had a long trip though. Maybe we should head up tomorrow morning."

She shook her head. "No, I'll be fine. After being cooped up on that ship all day, I need to get out and stretch my legs."

"Don't forget, we won't just be taking a leisurely stroll there. We'll probably be running from the monsters as well."

She gave him a smile. "Who said anything about running? I'm sure you're still good with a sword, and even without my artes, I can still hold my own in a battle. Besides, it would give me the chance to try out my new weapon."

Luke raised an eyebrow at this. "What new weapon?"

She glanced away. "N—nothing too special. Just a little something I picked up since I can't exactly use my spells anymore. I thought it would be a good idea if I made myself a bit more versatile."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be just as good at whatever it is as you were at casting. It's a pity though…about your artes, I mean."

"Well, it's not like I didn't know this was going to happen."

"But still…it's a pity all the same."

Tear sighed. "Well, it'll be a real pity if we don't get to Choral Castle before the sun goes down. The trip will be even more difficult if we're out after dark. If you want to go today, I suggest we leave soon."

"Yeah," Luke agreed, "I suppose you're right."

Tear reached for her bag and searched through its contents until she found enough Gald to pay for their meals. "I've already gathered my supplies so we can leave as soon as you're ready."

"Yeah, I'm ready. And you didn't have to pay, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but it would probably be faster."

Luke faked a frown. " Aww come on, I'm way more organized than I used to be!"

Tear couldn't help laughing. "Perhaps, but I'll believe it when I see it."

''Is that a challenge then?"

" No. Just an honest statement. Now let's get going or we really will be in for a challenge."

"Right, right," he laughed, "and when we get back here, I promise that I'm going to treat you to dinner."

"All right then, " she agreed. "It's a deal."

--

**Author's Note:**

I was really disappointed by this part to tell the truth. It took me so ridiculously long to write, and in the end, it still deteriorated into mere dialogue by the end. I'm probably losing my touch, but I really want to write The Thirteenth Hour, so I'm going to do my best with the rest of this story.


	4. That Which is Most Precious

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

**Author's Note:** So, uh, this is really late. No excuses, I just didn't write anything for a while. Thankfully, the 3DS reboot of TotA made me fall in love with this game all over again.

* * *

"There must be something we can do!"

Daath was furious now, pacing back and forth across the small room, shredding the letter he held in his hands.

Relis, the engineer from the Orisian Order merely leaned back in her chair and studied the sunlight shifting across the ceiling. "You saw the letter, Daath. Isetan revoked our funding. The Sephiroth project is dead."

"This was our best shot, Relis," Daath shot back. "And weren't you the person who poured their heart and soul into the fontech behind the gates?"

The blonde engineer frowned and looked away. Daath hesitated for a moment. Of course she would be disappointed. It wasn't right to have reminded her of the loss.

"We can always try to squeeze more funding out of Mydeira," suggested Lucas, a wayward knight who had decided to tag along with the rest of the group after helping them out of a tight spot with the Royal family of Ispania.

Daath tossed aside a handful of shredded paper angrily. "That's if they don't decide to revoke our funding as well."

"It doesn't hurt to try," Relis admitted after a long moment. "At least that way we'll be able to continue our research even if we have to scale back our plans. Yulia had said that it was most important that we keep moving forward with this project after all."

The mention of Yulia's name brought Daath to a standstill once again, and it was Relis' turn to flush with regret. It had been over two weeks since Yulia had left for Isetan to protest the funding cuts. The group hadn't heard from her since, and Daath was regretting letting her go by herself."

After a long silence Edgar, a mage of the Mydeiran Knights spoke up. "More importantly than the funding, we need to retrieve Lady Yulia. Without her, any efforts towards securing funding would prove futile."

"Edgar's right," Daath admitted after a moment's consideration. "Our first order of business will be to rescue Yulia. Perhaps during this mission we may even be able to 'convince' Isetan to restore our funding."

Lucas smirked. "And if not, we can always raid the treasury while we're there."

Daath ignored the ex-knight. Instead he turned to the rest of the group. "Make your preparations, everyone. We depart for Isetan in two hours."

* * *

By evening Daath and his comrades were halfway to Isetan. Travelling by hoverplane would have been faster, but they likely would have been taken out by the capital's anti-air defenses before they could even approach. As such, they had decided to take the day-long trip by boat instead.

For Daath, travelling by boat was torture. Here he was, confined in a small, windowless space without anything to distract him. Instead, it seemed as though he was doomed to relive his failure to protect Yulia over and over again.

She had insisted she would be all right. Coming from a prophet, he hadn't doubted her words. If only he had accompanied her, perhaps things would have turned out differently. She could have complained and protested all she wanted, but at least she would have been safe. He was beginning to think that, despite her precognitive abilities, perhaps he was better off not listening to her at times.

Daath sank back into a chair and closed his eyes. They would be at Isetan within the hour, and he hadn't slept properly for the past two days. He would only be a hindrance in this state.

He could almost hear Yulia's voice chiding him for not taking proper care of himself, and he had half a mind to give her the same lecture once he saw her again. Though he understood why she couldn't tell him everything regarding the future she saw, he thought she would have enough sense to at least mention something as important as the fact that she would be kidnapped. Instead, she had ordered Daath to take the rest of the group to secure the location for the Radiation Gate, saying that it was more important for the Sephiroth Project be completed and that she could handle the negotiation with Isetan on her own.

What else was she hiding? Was she in some kind of danger and had told them to go elsewhere to spare them? Was she even still alive?

No. He couldn't think that way. She had said she would be all right, and he would do everything in his power to make that prediction a reality.

Right now, it was his turn to "negotiate" with Isetan.

* * *

"What on earth were you thinking, Daath?"

The group had just stormed the Royal Palace of Isetan, and had found Yulia imprisoned within its dungeon. They had managed to retrieve the prophetess and had escaped from the city into a nearby marsh before finally stopping to rest at which point Yulia, who had until then been cooperative, had turned on Daath and begun to lecture him.

Daath for one was completely caught off guard by her demeanor and couldn't seem to formulate a coherent response. Edgar came to Daath's defense.

"It was a calculated move to ensure the success of the Project, Lady Yulia."

Yulia hesitated for a moment. "Is that true?"

"Of course, Yuls," Relis cut in. "Besides, we could research all we want; we'd still need funding to make the Project a reality."

Lucas hung his head. "It's a shame you guys didn't let me loot the treasury."

Relis rolled her eyes and jabbed Lucas in his back with the blunt end of her spear. "Are you sure you used to be a knight?"

Edgar ignored their squabbling. "Continuing, Lady Yulia, both gates are now secured, and the upgrades have been carried out on the passage rings. Once we activate the new sets of passage rings, we'll be ready to siphon power from the Planet Storm."

"Well, it's good to see that the plan is progressing according to schedule," Yulia relented at last. She turned back to Daath. "Still, you shouldn't have wasted time coming to rescue me. You risked the entire project even though I told you I would be all right."

Daath whirled on her, his frustration finally boiling over. "Is that all you think about? That damn project of yours? Did you ever stop to think that there are more important things in this world?"

Yulia drew back, clearly caught off guard. "Daath, I..."

"No! Don't even start, Yulia. This whole damn problem could have been avoided if you had just trusted us enough to tell us what was going on! If you had just let me come with you instead then…." He turns away mid-sentence, unable to continue.

The rest of the group watched silently. Even Relis and Lucas had stopped their squabbling, sobered by the tension of the moment.

After a moment, Daath relents. "Whatever the case, it's good that you're safe. We should head back to Mydeira. The enemy won't be able to pursue us there.

Yulia nodded solemnly. "Yes. Let's keep moving."


	5. The Phantom of Memory

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

**Author's Note:** Written while procrastinating on Nano. Urk.

* * *

"Luke! Duck!"

Luke slipped out of the way just as Tear unleashed a flurry of bullets on the monster before them. The bird-like creature flopped weakly to the ground where Luke finished it off with a well-timed strike.

Tear holstered her twin pistols as her hips and jogged to catch up with Luke.

"Let's keep moving. Choral Castle is just ahead."

The redhead sheathed his weapon and fell into step beside her. She couldn't help feeling envious for a moment that his casual stride allowed him to keep up with her even though he was only walking.

"I didn't know you could use guns, Tear."

The fonist rolled her eyes but did not slow her pace. "Major Legretta was the one who trained me. Of course she taught me how to use these guns."

Luke immediately regretted asking her about the weapons. Since Legretta's death, Tear hadn't really talked much about her mentor. In the past three years, he couldn't even recall Tear mentioning her once, and here he'd gone to prod an old wound.

Of course, Tear was almost an expert at reading Luke's moods, and quickly interpreted his silence. "Don't worry about it, Luke. I've accepted the fact of the Major's death. Besides, I'm grateful to her for teaching me how to wield these. At least this way I can still be useful even though my fonic artes are gone."

He wanted to tell her that he'd be glad to have her along even if she didn't join in on the fighting, and that there would be no way in all the world that he would ever consider her useless. She had _saved_ him—not just from death but from a life mired in his own ignorance but knew that mere platitudes would not suffice.

Even though she had not said anything, he knew she had suffered from the loss of the Planet Storm. Her entire life had been built around Yulia's legacy and her brother's sin, and now that they was gone, he knew she was struggling to fill that void, no matter how brave of a face she put on.

Even agreeing to take over Choral Castle had been his none-too-subtle attempt to give her something to be happy about. He knew that, had he asked, she would have stonewalled him, saying she was perfectly fine and fully occupied by the negotiations with Daath. But he had seen the sorrow she hid in her distant gaze and the ever so slight downturn of her lips when she thought he wasn't looking and wanted to help her.

He knew he was in no position to guide anyone since he was still stumbling along his own path in life. But if he could at least bring a smile to her face, he would feel better about this whole situation.

They arrived at Choral Castle sooner than they had expected. The monster-life had grown thin in the area with the constant hunting parties dispatched from Port Kaitzur. As such, they had several hours of daylight left and set about securing a base within the castle itself. Thankfully, the earlier procession of Malkuth soldiers sent to retrieve the fomicry device had left the castle all but devoid of monsters though the phantoms of memory and regret still lurked within the stone walls.

Tear suggested they set up camp in the uppermost room since it was a fortifiable position. He agreed, and they made their way up the long series of stairs connecting the roof to the lobby. Luke set about laying out the supplies and bedrolls while Tear piled some wooden shelves cannibalized from an old bookshelf into the dusty fireplace. A tiny wisp of flame flared from her fingertips and soon a fire flared in the hearth.

Again a shadow flickered across her face in the dim firelight.

"I'm sorry, Tear," he said, feeling that was the only thing he could rightly say.

She said nothing, only smiled distantly as her eyes remained dark.

* * *

They waited until the following day to begin cleaning out the castle. Luke had not wanted to leave Tear on her own, but she had insisted that they could complete the job faster if they split up and assured him that she would be all right.

He found himself cleaning the basement where the fomicry machine had been located while Tear worked on cleaning the adjacent study. They had agreed to leave the secret doorway open just in case either of them ran into trouble with the monsters. A few spirits had emerged from the figurative woodwork, apparently disturbed by the flurry of activity and the gradual disappearance of the cobwebs and rubble piles. Thankfully, Jade had had the foresight to have the Malkuth military remove the worst of the rubble so that all that was left was to clean.

Still, the process was long and arduous for one still unaccustomed to housework, and Luke found his mind wandering.

This was where everything had started—where he had been born and the world had veered off its pre-destined course. Despite everything he had been through, he could honestly say he was glad to have been born if only to live alongside Tear.

It would be nice, he thought, if this abandoned castle could become a home—something more than the shell of forgotten memories it had been. He was more certain than ever that he had made the right decision to accept ownership of the castle.

He pushed himself to his aching feet and stretched until his vertebrae popped. After many hours of work and very little progress to show for it, he was really ready to call it a day. He was just about to leave the basement to find Tear when something caught his eye.

The fomicry device had left large gouges in the stone, forever carving its existence onto the fabric of the world. In the area beneath where the fomicry device had been located, he spotted an abnormality in the stone. A quick examination revealed that what he had originally thought to be solid stone was actually yet another concealed door that, despite age and disuse, opened easily.

The trap door revealed a staircase that descended downwards into thick darkness. He couldn't tell how far the stairs went but decided it was better to let Tear know before venturing in on his own.

Tear arrived quickly at his call, dust rag still in hand and hair tied back in a long braid. Her expression was tense, free had already going for the firearm at her hip. "What's going on?"

He motioned her over. "Take a look at this, Tear. It's a secret passageway."

"Any idea where it goes?"

"Down, I guess."

She rolled her eyes.

"I suppose we should investigate, at least. We need to make sure this castle isn't hiding any other secrets," Luke said.

"I'd feel better if we had a few more people with us."

He grinned. "We'll be careful, right. If we run across anything too dangerous, we'll retreat and seal up the passage until we can get help."

"We'll be more than cautious," she admonished. "At the first sign of danger, we'll leave. Who knows what's lurking down there. That passage might have been sealed for centuries."

Luke retrieved his weapon from where he had braced it against a pile of rubble. "Well, there's one way to find out, isn't there?"


	6. Rift

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

"No you don't!"

Daath strikes back at the attacking soldier, somehow managing to block a fatal blow despite the exhaustion that deadens his limbs. He stumbles, and another enemy sees his chance, lunging forward in a desperate strike. Unable to block, Daath braces for the pain.

The clash of steel on steel shakes him from his fatalistic stupor, and before he is entirely aware, he is back on his feet, weapon at the ready, driving back the enemy whose blade Lucas had blocked earlier. No words of gratitude pass between the two comrades for none are needed. They both know they need to hold their ground and buy Yulia and the others enough time to complete the activation cycle for Radiation Gate. But the enemy phalanx advances relentlessly seemingly without end. Despite their opposition to the Project, no one had expected Isetan to go to such extremes as trying to assassinate Yulia.

Arrows scream past Daath's ear, the miss more a result of chance than skill. He knows he needs to get his head back in the game, but he can't help worrying about those who had gone ahead. Yulia had Relis and Edgar with her, but they might not be strong enough to protect her if the Isetani soldiers were already waiting at the passage ring.

Yulia had assured him they would be all right-the first real words she had spoken to him since her rescue from Isetan a week ago, but still the fear twisted and wormed its way through his gut. She had said the same thing last time, and she had been kidnapped. How could he believe her now when she treated her too precious life with such carelessness?

The ground roils beneath his feet so suddenly that, for a moment, he fears he's been caught in the throes of a spell. The entire structure around them seems to sigh with the initial surge of fonic power, and from the depths of building, he can hear the tell-tale hum of fon machines coming to life.

So Yulia had succeeded. Now all he and Lucas had to do was hold their ground until the others returned and then they'd be able to face the enemy on equal terms.

Then it happens.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lucas take a blade to the chest right between the chinks of his armor. Blood paints the knight's tunic a dreadful shade of crimson, and he falls, face pale with shock and agony. Just as the enemy soldier withdraws his blade and raises it for the finishing blow, Daath kills his with a merciless swipe of his sword.

For a moment, everyone is frozen as the coldness of death creeps over them all. Even Daath finds himself paralyzed by the scene before him.

With clumsy fingers, Lucas searches through the pouch at his belt for medicine, but his consciousness is quickly fading. That wound wasn't something normal medicine could heal; it would require use of the Seventh Fonon to heal properly. Yulia was the obvious choice to use healing magic, but Daath could use some basic skills as well. However, with the massive enemy force before him, he wouldn't be able to get the first words of the spell out of his mouth before he was killed as well.

Hadn't she said they'd be all right? Weren't her prophecies always supposed to come true?

So then, how was this happening?

Weren't there some things that couldn't be predicted or changed no matter how hard one tried?

Weren't there some things that were completely unavoidable?

The air shifts around them as though someone has siphoned all the life out of the room. The entryway seems too vast, its walls too high-unreachable, unscalable. It takes Daath a moment to realize what is happening. It's not until he sees the glyph unfold around Lucas' prone form like a brilliant flower that he comes to his senses.

The enemy soldiers have already turned away, eyes automatically pivoting to the greater threat in the room. The shadows of the entrance fall away like a cloak as a tall woman steps into the light, her raven hair cascading over her shoulders like darkness made manifest. She takes a moment to meet his eyes, wordlessly communicating her expectations to him. Heh, she was always like that.

Chatter spreads among the enemy, but Daath pays them no heed and focuses on healing his fallen friend. In the background, he can hear the distinctive sound of her armor as she moves. He does not even need to look to know how the battle will unfold.

She will reach for the weapons at her hips-twin daggers gilt with fine threads of gold woven into the shape of an ornate crescent moon-the emblem of the Ispanian royal family. He hears the roar of the enemies as they surge forward towards their identified threat-the momentum of the moment too strong for them for them to remember his presence. After all, it's not everyday that they would come face to face with their country's greatest enemy-The Great Fang of Ispania.

The initial surge would bring the enemies within her range. With fluid ease she would dispatch the enemies closest to her. As the others close in, hoping to restrict her movement, she would switch to more defensive tactics, blocking and dodging their attacks until one of them made a mistake.

He hears the tell tale screams that mean she has begun her advance again. But even for the Great Fang, these odds are too much without help.

Daath finishes up his healing spell and pulls a groggy Lucas to his feet.

"Get the others," Daath says. "We'll finish up here."

For a moment, Lucas seems to consider arguing, but he nods and turns away wordlessly, disappearing into the interior of the structure. Daath takes a moment to collect his discarded weapon, trying to ignore the slickness of the blood on his hands. Now was not the time to wallow.

He dives into the swarm of enemies, plowing a path through the bodies, intent on reaching his unexpected ally. She seems to recognize his intention and, soon enough, they meet at the midpoint. They are both winded and covered in gore, but still they can't help the laugh that bubbles up at that particular moment as they stand back to back.

"Never thought I'd seen you in such a pickle," she laughs.

He rolls his eyes despite knowing that she's not looking. "Irene. Never thought I'd see the day you save my life instead of trying to kill me."

He can feel her shrug against his tense back. "What can I say? Things change."

"Oh really? Do tell."

"Let's take care of this first."

"And how do you suggest we do that?"

She relaxes her stance momentarily. "Remember what happened last time we fought? How about we scale that up?"

He resists the urge to whirl on her in surprise. "A hyperresonance? You've got to be insane! That could collapse this entire structure."

"We'll keep it under control of course. But unless you have a better idea, I suggest we finish this off now."

To be honest, he didn't have a better plan. "Fine. Let's give it a try."

He didn't need to look to know she was smiling. "Right."

* * *

The sound of footsteps drags Daath back from the verge of exhausted slumber. Irene stood beside him, stubbornly alert though he could see the fatigue creeping in at the corner of her eyes.

As the group approached, Relis stopped, wide-eyed. "What the hell happened here?"

From his position at the bottom of the shallow crater, Daath looked up at her. "Umm...an accident?"

Relis' face turned an interesting shade of purple. "An _accidental_ hyperresonance? What kind of idiot would let that happen?"

Irene shifted beside him. "We did what we had to," she replied sharply. "I didn't see you running to our rescue."

Relis' eyes riveted to Irene. "And you _helped_ him? You of all people should know how dangerous that power is! What would you have done of you guys had destroyed the passage ring? The entire project would have been ruined."

Irene remained stoic. "And I suppose it doesn't matter what happened to us. I wish I'd known that before I risked my life to help your friends."

"No one asked for your help," the engineer snarled.

Daath, for one, had had enough of the brewing catfight. "Relis, calm down! She saved my life. and Lucas' as well!"

Relis' expression softened at the mention of the knight's name, but she remained silent.

Edgar cut in. "We do not have time for further squabbling. We need to find help for Lady Yulia."

Daath froze. "What happened to Yulia?"

"Have a look for yourself," Lucas said grimly as he stepped forward. In his arms, he carried the prone form of the prophetess.

Daath rushed over to Yulia's side, bloodstained hands trembling as he took possession of his precious burden. Her face was pale even among the whiteness of her robes, her eyes closed in an imitation of sleep so peaceful that, for a moment, he feared the worst. But he could hear the sound of her heartbeat as surely as he felt his own pulsing beneath his skin. She was alive, but barely.

In the background, he could hear Edgar explaining what he thought had happened, but the words just ghosted over his consciousness. His fingers curled into her soft, pliant flesh as he bowed his head over her still form in a painful imitation of prayer. Only the weight of Irene's hand upon his arm drew him from his despondent reverie.

"Come on, Daath. Let's take her to the capital. We'll get her the best help there is."

He could only nod and follow behind Irene as she led the way, steeling himself for whatever might come next.

* * *

**Author's Babbling:**

Man, it's been a while since I worked on this story, but I have to admit, after finishing Nano and playing Tales of Xillia 2, this was just something I had to get back to. I have to admit, it's difficult writing semi-original characters into a story that's as well formed as TotA, especially since I'm trying to flesh out past events. But still, seeing how far the Tales series has come, really made me want to start writing again.

I have to admit, for all the characters in the past segments, I've had strong images of them in my head as I write. Daath is obviously modelled on Luke while Yulia is modelled on a less abrasive version of Tear (she's the kind of character who endures her suffering silently).

Relis, appearance wise, is modelled on Pascal's older sister (I forget her name) from Tales of Graces F; personality wise, she's the typical tsundere character who likes to beat on the person she likes. She's also got a little bit of Rita (Tales of Vesperia) in her, since she's psychotically brilliant when it comes to her work, but can use a bit of buffer when dealing with other people.

Lucas is probably most like a younger Raven, personality-wise—all wisecracks and humor. Appearance-wise, hmm maybe like Leon (Tales of Destiny), with armor and fluffier hair, I guess.

Edgar is modelled on an older Ion in both appearance and personality. He's the voice of reason for the group and tends to keep the others in line with the sheer force of his personality.

And Irene, oddly enough is modelled on two different characters personality wise. Her battle style is like Ludger's (Tales of Xilia 2) when he uses the twin blades, but her personality is like Milla Maxwell (Tales of Xilia and ToX2), all confidence and unstoppable power. Still, under all that, is a generaly good nature. And since this was probably confusing in the story, she and Daath have met before as enemies. Irene has royal blood, but since she was born to a mistress, no one recognizes her as royalty. The Emperor offered her a chance to become an assassin for the royal family, hoping she would fail and be killed. But she became so skilled at her job that she became known all over the world. She and Daath met when she was sent to assasinate Yulia before. They worked together as members of the Myderian knights. She was Daath's captain before she disappeared.

Anyway, I babbled a lot this time. Sorry about that.

It's back to Luke and Tear next time.

See you then!


	7. The Absence of Magic

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Tales of the Abyss.

* * *

The stairway twists away into the subterranean darkness, disappearing beyond the veil of the gaping blackness. The ancient stone is slick with coagulated slime. Tear's feet have slipped out from beneath her several times already, and she has long since lost count of the number of times Luke has fallen. Despite her numerous warnings, he still proceeds ahead at a reckless pace.

It feels like he never listens when it counts, at least when it comes to his own safety. As much as she wants to remind him that things aren't like they were before when she could patch back up almost any injury with her magic, she cannot bring herself to openly speak of her own handicap. Though medicine and technology had come a long way in a mad dash to fill the void left by the absence of magic, but bottles and gels had their limitations and basically amounted to slapping on a bandage. But sometimes, that was about as effective as plugging a single break in a wall when the whole dam was collapsing. No medicine available could knit together bone and flesh as effectively as magic once had.

Thankfully, he is as sturdy as he is foolhardy and has not injured himself in his haste.

The pair continue their downwards journey. As they proceed, the color of the stones begin to change from the dark grey of the castle walls to a rich earthy color.

Luke pauses for a moment.

Tear stops behind him. "What's wrong?"

She can barely discern his expression in the thick darkness, but in the flickering lamplight she can tell he is confused.

"I'm not certain," he says. "But something feels wrong here."

"We're several miles underground on a one-way staircase to heaven-knows-where and you say something like that."

"I'm being serious here. You must have noticed too."

As the more cautious of the pair, it was a given that she had noticed but had chalked up the feeling more to claustrophobia than any concrete fear. "Do you think we should go back?"

"I don't know."

"Then we probably should," she answers quite sensibly. "Gut instinct can often be quite sharp."

"But we haven't found anything yet."

In the confined space she cannot put her hands on her hips. "We can have Kimlasca send a team to investigate."

"But what if there's something dangerous here, and we send them in without warning?"

"All the more reason to send in a fully prepared team that can handle such danger."

She can feel his protest before he even speaks. "And who better to handle danger than the two of us?"

She sighs. "Do you want to keep going?"

"I'd rather have something to report back than go back empty handed."

"Fine. Then let's keep going. But if we run across anything dangerous, you have to promise me you won't try to fight it alone."

He smiles. "But I won't be alone. You'll be here with me."

Tear resists the urge to drop her face into her hands. "Just keep moving."

* * *

Tear drops flat to the ground, barely avoiding a sweeping blow meant to knock her off her feet. The monster's gnarled forearm soars overhead, the force of the blow keeping her pressed to the crumbling pavement.

In the distance, she hears Luke shout something to her, but she cannot distinguish his words over the monster's guttural roar. She lifts her head from the pavement just in time to see Luke charge the creature.

She is on her feet before she can even process the motion, firing off a volley of shots meant to distract the creature from its prey. But the ape-like monster has a thick stone-like armor covering most of its body, and her shots just glance off of its massive body.

Luke has had slightly more luck, managing to wound the creature in its exposed joints and vulnerable belly, slowing its movement. This gives them just enough time to dodge the monster's attacks.

She takes momentary cover behind a piece of rubble that had fallen in the creature's initial onslaught and digs around in her small supply pack for additional ammunition. She tries to will her hands to stop shaking as she fits the cartridge into place.

They have been fighting this creature for an hour already, and with the stairs blocked by rubble, they can only hope to defeat the creature in order to survive.

She should have known something like this would happen. This was the story of her life after all: some supposedly simple task ends up becoming ridiculously complicated. She should have been more cautious, urged Luke to turn back once again. He surely would have listened if she had insisted. But complacency had gotten the best of her, and she had foolishly believed for the single moment that it took for the situation to fall apart that things would be all right.

A scream tears through the chaos. Despite the paralyzing fear of what she might find, she emerges from cover.

Luke is on his feet, but is wounded, his left arm hanging limply at his side. Normally the sight of blood does not disturb her, but somehow she cannot quell the rising sense of helplessness that ghosts through her.

She can heal that. Well, she could. Things had been different back in the day when the seventh fonon was plentiful, but now, even as she dug deep into her reservoir of magic, she came up empty. There was just nothing—a void which was rapidly consuming her remaining hope.

But she is better than this dammit! Magic or no magic she is the last remaining descendant of Yulia and will not go down without a fight.

What was it that the Major had told her? Ah. That's right. Use the environment to your advantage.

A quick survey of the area gives her an answer. The drawn out fight has damaged the room. If she could just lure the creature to charge into the wall, the stone would likely collapse on top of it giving them a chance to finish it off.

She fires off another volley, peppering the creature's back with bullets. As expected, the creature begins to advance on her. She draws back, firing a few more shots to continue luring the creature towards her. In the background, Luke is starting towards her, his expression twisted with fear and confusion. She has to finish this before he can interfere and get himself hurt.

The monster swings at her, as expected, and she neatly rolls out of the way as its fist connects with the wall. The entire structure groans with protest at the assault, and slowly, like the trickling of water, dust and debris begin to fall.

Cracks spider across the stone, radiating from the impact point across the ancient wall and up the ceiling. The image is almost surreal as the wall gives way, folding in on itself and dragging parts of the ceiling down with it. Just as she expected, the monster is indeed caught in the collapse, and she can already tell by the sounds it is making that it will not survive.

There was just one little flaw in her plan.

The creature falls to the floor its titanic weight multiplied exponentially by the debris that now rains down on it. As it crashes to the ground, the stone beneath her feet gives a sickening lurch before dropping away entirely.

For a moment she is suspended, entirely weightless before gravity can catch up with her.

But that was the way things went, wasn't it? Whatever went up, whatever attained some measure of happiness in this world must eventually come back down and know the same sadness, pain and fear as everyone else who hadn't been as fortunate.

But at least she could say that, in spite of everything she had been lucky.

Had an outsider looked at her life, they would have undoubtedly judged her as pitiful and unfortunate-living so much of her life outside the warming sphere of the sun, weighed down by her own destiny, forced to take up arms against her own brother in order to stop him, forced by fate to kill both him and her mentor and, for a time, torn away from the person she loved most in all of creation because of that mission.

Another person might pity her, but she knew better.

She was the luckiest person alive.

She might die here, miles underground engulfed by the darkness, but she had her own sun to light her way to the next world- a precious, irreplaceable light that had taken up residence in the sphere of her heart and had melted away the coldness that had devoured her life.

She would die here.

But it would not be in vain.

The darkness stretches up towards her, its endless maw gaping as it consumes everything, even light, that falls into it.

Inevitably, she must fall. The laws of nature demand it. Thus, when she remains suspended in mid-air even as stone rains down around her, she is understandably shocked.

A bead of blood trickles along the pale skin of her extended arm. The limb pulses with pain. She believes it must be broken, and that the blood is from the injury.

That is, until she sees the hands clasped white-knuckled onto hers.

He smiles, despite the pain, brilliant hair trailing over him like the corona of the sun.

"You'll be all right," he says.

Oh how she wants to believe him.

But she can see what he cannot-the cracks forming in the stone beneath him.

As he begins to pull her up, she tries to pull her hands from him.

One of them will die here.

She prefers it to be her.

But try as she might, his stubbornness wins out over her desperation, and she cannot tear her hand free. If she struggles too much, she might end up bringing him down with her.

Words and logic are wasted on him. In such a state, he will not listen, so she can only uselessly try to free herself. But each time she does, his grip grows stronger until the blood from his wound trails down both their arms-the gruesome red thread that connects them.

Her guns have long since disappeared into the void, but she still has her knife. Were she to stab him, he would be forced to let her fall. For a long moment, she actually considers this, but in the end, relents.

She can't bring herself to harm him. She doesn't want that to be the way he remembers her and continues her struggle.

But his determination wins out in the end as she is pulled over the edge of the precipice. There is no point in struggling now, so she tries to pull herself back up with his help. But she cannot get purchase on the slick stone, and in his position, lying flat on his stomach, he cannot gain enough leverage to pull her up himself.

They don't have time to debate or they will both die.

To her horror, he takes this decision from her as he pushes himself to his feet causing the stone he is standing on groan ominously. With a single arcing swing, he manages to slide her clear of the damaged floor, his words echoing in her ears.

"I'll be right behind you."

But when she looks up, all she can see are the trailing ends of his hair, disappearing into the void, like sparks of a fire too quickly extinguished.

And just like that, the fire within her went out as well.


	8. Departure

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss

* * *

"Daath! Wait!"

Daath turns to face his pursuer more out of obligation than anything and finds Relis running to catch up with him. She skids to a stop next to him and doubles over to catch her breath.

"Keep moving, Daath," Irene says from her place next to him. "I thought you made up your mind already."

He frowns. "I have. But I should at least have said something to the others. They're not at fault."

"Then all the less reason to involve them," the assassin says.

"Just go ahead, Irene," Daath says waving her off. "I'll be right behind you."

She seems to want to protest but instead just sighs and says, "I hope you know what you're doing."

With a momentary backward glance at the blonde engineer, Irene continues into the forest leaving the two former comrades alone.

Meanwhile, Relis has caught her breath and, red-faced, waves a small piece of paper in Daath's face. "And just what the hell are you thinking?" she demands, "Leaving a letter like this and just running off with that-woman? What about Yuls?!"

Despite himself, Daath is unable to keep pain from knifing through him at the mention of the prophetess, but he schools his features into an indifferent mask. "Don't concern yourself with me, Relis. I'm just doing what I must. Yulia and I no longer see eye to eye. That's all."

Relis hesitates for a moment, guilt snaking its way across her face. "Look, I know what the doctors told you yesterday was a surprise, but don't blame it all on Yuls. I designed the gates. If anyone's at fault, it's me."

While Daath could not deny the rage that had consumed him when he had learned of Yulia's condition and of the true price of activating the Passage Rings, and while he also could not deny the fact that he, in part, had blamed Relis for keeping this vital information from him, she was not entirely at fault. No, if anyone was to blame it had been Yulia with her matter-of-fact reaction to his surprise as though he was supposed to have known the truth all along and had simply forgotten.

It was the only way, she had said.

I am meant to die, she had said.

Just like that, as though there was nothing that could be done about it.

But it wasn't even simple resignation to the fact. No, that wasn't what bothered him. Her words were completely unemotional without even any consideration for the person she was talking to. It was as though she had expected him to be just as unconcerned about her death as she was.

It had been just over a week since her kidnapping by Isetan, but since then his frustration had been building. She didn't value her own life at all, nor did she even think about how those who loved her would feel when she died. No. Duty was the only thing that registered in the sphere of her world.

For a while, he could have understood that.

At first, he was just the knight assigned to guard her. She was a valuable commodity after all-a woman who could see the future. She had become even more valuable when they had found a way to stop the Miasma. Because of her connection with Lorelei, she was realistically the only one who could effectively operate the Sephiroth and certainly the only one who could jump start the Planet Storm. Back then, Yulia had simply been valuable, and his job had been to drive away any who might interfere with her duty.

But ever so slowly that had changed.

Over time, he became her knight, and his duty was to protect her from anything that might harm her. His loyalty would become unquestionable-alway her supporter and most staunch ally. He would become the right hand she could always count on, the person who would always be found by her side.

In his eyes, there was no Isetan, Mydeira or Ispania, no Church or Royal family or anything. All such labels were unnecessary. There was only Yulia and those who would harm her.

But over the past few days, it had become painfully clear to him that she had never relied on him the way he had hoped she would. She hadn't even thought to tell him about the poison that snaked its way through her veins every time she used a Passage Ring. He had only found out when they had brought Yulia to the capital of Ispania after her collapse, and when he had confronted her about keeping her condition from him, she had callously deflected his questions with some garbage about her duty.

Had she shown some kind of sadness, or fear or any kind of human emotion, perhaps he could have forgiven her. But her bluntness and acceptance had driven a wedge between them, and he hadn't been able to face her since then.

Maybe it was the guilt he couldn't stand.

He was her guardian, yet he had assisted her in her suicidal quest. Even if he hadn't known, there was a part of himself he couldn't forgive for hurting her. But he also couldn't forgive her for letting him continue hurting her with his ignorance. She must have been laughing at him the whole while. Every time he said he'd protect her, but in the end he was only killing her slowly.

Why hadn't she said anything?

Why hadn't he noticed?

She'd been suffering all along, and he'd only made things worse by helping her with her quest to activate the Passage Rings.

But worst, worst of all she refused to stop.

When he had found out, he had said 'to hell with the Miasma' and had expected her to do the same. But to his surprise, she had already planned with the others to head to the next Passage Ring.

When he had refused to go with her, she hadn't said anything, hadn't asked asked him to stay or even hinted that her journey would be troublesome without him. Instead she had simply accepted his leaving with the same indifference with which she had accepted her own demise.

And he hadn't been able to stand that.

"It's nothing to do with that, Relis," Daath assured her. "But if she can't be bothered to care about her own life, then I won't bother either."

"But she needs you!"

He turns away, not wanting the engineer to see the hurt that he knew was visible on his face. "Then why isn't she here?"

Relis looks at him, her green eyes wide, but she remains silent.

Daath continues, more out of frustration than anger. "Did she even say anything when she realized I was gone? Or did she simply accept it like she does everything else?"

"Daath…"

"She doesn't need me or any of you guys, can't you see that? And if she's determined to get herself killed, she can do it on her own! I won't have any part of it!"

"Is that the real reason why you're leaving?"

Relis' question startles him. "What do you mean?"

She fixes him with a steely gaze, her entire demeanor changed from confusion to confrontation. "If you wanted to protect her, you'd stay by her side. And you're too loyal to her to leave simply just because you disagree with what she's doing. Are you planning to betray her?"

He tries to step away and follow Irene's trail into the forest brush, but Relis stops him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Answer me, Daath!"

He shakes her hand away and rests his hand on the hilt of his weapon to deter her advance.

Her eyes narrow. "You wouldn't."

Daath draws back further into the shadow of the trees. "I'll do what I have to to protect her, Relis. Even if I become her enemy."

And with that, he disappears into the forest, leaving the stunned engineer behind him.


	9. Sun and Flame

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tales of the Abyss

* * *

Tear wants to stand, but her body refuses to respond.

Dammit! There's no time for this! Move, move, move!

He's fine. He needs help. This is no time to dawdle! On your feet! NOW!

She somehow manages to push herself to her feet, the fear pulsing within her acting like an electric shock, jolting her forward awkwardly. As much as she wants to run towards the edge to search for Luke, she knows better. The ground could still give way.

Carefully, she tests the floor before she advances onto a relatively stable patch. Her breath catches as she peers over the edge. In the the thick darkness, she can barely see anything, only the distant outline of what looked like a pile of rubble. She wasn't sure, but with a second look, she thought there might be a room underneath this one. It looked like a long way down, but if she was careful, she might be able to climb down instead of wasting time searching for stairs that may or may not exist. In the back of her mind, she realizes that if there are no stairs, she might have great difficulty escaping, but at this moment, escape wasn't her priority.

Her pack and supplies have fallen to the lower level, but Luke's are in the far corner. She retrieves the pack and fumbles through the contents for a rope and climbing supplies. She secures the rope and drops the coils over the edge watching as the end disappears into darkness. In the bag, she also finds a charged lightstone-a clear stone that traps sunlight and releases it when a pin is pulled. She pulls the pin and loops a cord through the hole before securing it to her belt and slinging the pack over her shoulder.

Biting back the dread over what she might find, she carefully begins her descent.

The lower level slowly emerges, painted in the golden light of the lightstone.

The floor of the room is barely visible, but she can see the rubble that had fallen from above. Deciding that it is better to climb down before the rope can break, she makes her way down to the end of the rope. Thankfully, the rope is long enough that it only leaves her with a short drop to the ground which she manages though, regrettably, she won't be able to reach it again without assistance.

As she moves over to the pile of rubble, she spots Luke almost immediately. He is surrounded by crimson. At first, she thinks it is only his hair but realizes with a start that it is blood.

She scrambles up the rubble pile, stopping only when she has reached him.

"Luke! Wake up! Say something!"

There is no response, but a faint pulse flutters beneath her fingers.

He is alive, but barely.

Painful pressure wells in her chest, threatening to burst through bone and flesh alike. Somehow, he had survived the fall, but if she didn't hurry….

She searches through the remaining medicine in the pack, using whatever was useful. Elixirs, gels, bottles-she used them all, but even when the last package left her hands, there was still little change in his condition. The bleeding had stopped, and the superficial wounds had healed but he still wasn't waking up. She wasn't an expert and could only assume that there was some kind of internal injury that the medications couldn't help.

And this was exactly the reason she had wanted to go back and get help. To avoid something like this. In the past, she had been able to heal almost any injury, but without the Planet Storm, she was practically useless.

It was her mistake that had caused this, her fault that he ended up like this and now she couldn't even fix it!

Frustration and fear weigh heavily on her heart and her breath catches.

The sound that escapes her is foreign, its strangeness multiplied as it echoes in the darkness. The Major's words echo in her mind: 'Time spent weeping is time wasted'. She should do something-anything. Action was certainly better than crying, but while her head knew this, her heart was pointedly ignoring it.

Again, she was losing somebody. Again, she was being left behind. She may not have been able to save the Major and her brother, but she wanted to save Luke.

What she wouldn't give for her magic.

All she needed was a little.

A single ray of sunlight in the darkness.

A single moment of hope.

_-call-_

And then she hears it.

_Call me._

The voice is so faint that the sound is almost swallowed by the silence.

The air tingles with energy she cannot identify.

_Call me, child of Yulia, and I shall help thee._

The voice is not familiar. It certainly isn't Lorelei. But who else would call her 'child of Yulia'?

"Tell me who you are."

_I can save him._

The words stop her cold. As far as far as she knows, the Seventh Fonon is required for healing regardless of the spell's element.

"How?"

_Thou can sense mine power, can thou not? If thou callest me, I shall lend thee mine power._

His pulse flutters beneath her lingering hand. For a frightening moment it disappears before reappearing. In his own way, he was fighting, but he'd lost so much blood that she wasn't certain how much longer he could hold on.

Tear cannot deny the palpable power in the air. If anything besides Lorelei could save him, it could be this creature.

But therein lay the problem. She had no idea what it was that was speaking to her, and while she was not a believer in things like ghosts and demons, she couldn't help feeling that calling for this creature was certainly a bad idea.

But if she didn't, then Luke would die.

And that was an outcome she couldn't accept.

"Then save him!"

_Then call for me with the legacy of thy bloodline!_

There was only one thing to which the creature could be referring-Yulia's legacy-the Grand Fonic Hymn. But why that? Wasn't that just the sign of Yulia's covenant with Lorelei? What could that possibly do? She wants to ask but knows she can't afford to delay.

Forcing aside her many misgivings, she takes a deep breath and sings.

The song resonates in the high ceilings of the chamber, and with each verse she completes, the air grows thicker with unidentifiable power until it is almost difficult for her to breathe. But dutifully, she continues singing until the last note leaves her lips and is swallowed by the thrumming air.

With the last note comes a burst of light and an overflow of fonic power. In the air around her, she can feel what she has been missing for the past several years-fonons-several kinds-fire, wind, light, some seventh fonon but strangely, there is one she cannot identify, and it has the same warm feeling as the creature does.

_I thank thee for freeing me, child of Yulia. Use freely mine power and bask in the light of the golden sun!_

The light vanishes as quickly as it appeared, but the unnamed power remains, but now, she knows what it is. She can feel the warmth and light of the sun and wonders how she had not realized sooner what the feeling was.

But there are more important matters to attend to.

Tear begins drawing fonons, relishing in the feeling of power that overflows. She soon has gathered enough light fonons for her healing spell and is ready to begin the chant for Resurrection when she feels the solar fonons flowing in, providing her with a surge of power. And just like that, a new spell emerges.

"O brilliant sun that warms the coldest earth, grant us sanctuary from the dark embrace of death. Light of Life!"

Fonic energy coalesces overhead in an imitation of the sun, casting warm golden light down upon them both. As the cascading light fades, Tear feels the pain from her wounds fade with it. Even her worries have ebbed somewhat with the return of her powers. Fonons fill the air around her, as plentiful as they had been during the days of the Planet Storm, if not more so. But what was this power and, more importantly, why had it even been hidden here? Had this power existed during the Dawn Age, there may not even have been a need for the Planet Storm in the first place.

A pained groan shakes her out of her reverie. She turns finding Luke pushing himself to his feet.

"What the hell happened to me?" he grumbles. "I feel like I was run over by the Behemoth."

Immediately, her calm is gone. Relief and frustration war for dominance within her. In the end, frustration wins. "What were you _thinking_?! You nearly got yourself killed, and for _what_?!"

He is stunned to silence, more by her actual words than the outburst itself. As he muddles through his memories, his face lights up with understanding before darkening with frustration of his own. "I wasn't going to let you die!"

"And how do you think _I_ felt, having to watch you throw your life away?"

She is fighting the tears now, and he cannot be angry with her even if her argument verges on the ridiculous. Usually, she is cool and logical, always thinking two or three steps ahead. But in this moment, he can't help thinking she is truly ignorant for believing he'd _ever_ abandon her, but sees little point in saying so now when she is so upset. They can always argue later when they are within the safe limits of the city.

"You're right," he admits. "I was careless. I'm sorry."

But even this admission does not deter her. "Sorry isn't good enough! You're lucky that my artes came back this time. What if they hadn't? Did you ever think what it would do to me if you died?"

"Of course."

The simple words sober her immediately.

Of course they would know, wouldn't they. He had "died" once before, and though Lorelei had enabled his return, nothing could ever erase those two dark years after Eldrant had fallen. Tear was sure he had seen it too, in snippets and moments of tension between them since he had returned. The darkness of those days still lingered within her, an ominous warning of what might one day come again.

For a foolish, sentimental moment she thinks it would be better if she weren't around. If she left, he wouldn't have any reason to risk his life. But she quickly thinks better of it. He's careless enough as is and needs someone to watch his back. At least if she was around, she could help him.

"Don't ever do something like this again."

The words are so soft that, for a moment, he isn't certain if she had spoken. But the look on her face tells him enough.

"I can't promise that."

At any other time, she would have called his tone light-hearted, but right now, she can only call it a mockery. She opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off.

"You don't want me to die; I don't want you to die. Simple enough, right? But how about we call it a day from all the dying and get out of here. What do you say?"

For once, he's right, though she is reluctant to admit it. "Fine. We need to find a way back up to the surface."

"Right. But first, let's find our weapons."


End file.
